You Belong to Me
by ThisLittleDeath
Summary: Morticia could feel their eyes on her. Trying to possess her. Gomez's eyes burn with a murderous rage as he asserts his claim over what is rightfully his. Rated M - Explicit Sexual Content. Song-fic based on Elysian Fields "Black Acres"


**Author's Note: This story is explicitly sexual with violent overtones. Please be warned. The song is Black Acres by Elysian Fields. FYI, I didn't use the whole text in the story. I don't own the Addams Family or Elysian Fields or the song lyrics.  
**

**You can listen to the song (and I recommend that you do while reading) on youtube at: **www. you tube .com/ watch?v=kkgdo2o5x7M

**All reviews are welcome! Please let me know what you think!**

**Enjoy~**

**~TLD  
**

* * *

Morticia moved effortlessly through the crowded ballroom, her tight, black dress clinging to her, twisting erotically across her skin with every sway of her hips. She held her drink carefully, not allowing a single drop to escape her glass as the dancing couples spun precariously close to her meandering form. She moved with a languorous grace, her red lips pursed in a seductively self-satisfied pout, her dark eyes seeming to cut through the crowded ballroom. Searching for him.

_Whirlwind, Take me there  
Where I will be His lady fair_

She could feel their eyes on her. Whenever she moved, the eyes of all the men in the crowded ballroom rested heavily on her swaying hips. Her eyebrow arched as she saw them all in her mind's eye, covetously grasping their dance partners with a greedy sense of possession but sneaking glances over their blonde and brunette heads to catch of glimpse of her dark beauty. Trying to possess her with their eyes.

A small smirk curled her red lips. Trying, unsuccessfully. These pompous fools were of no interest for her. She paused in the great ballroom. Searching for him.

The dancers spun around her in a slow, sensual waltz. Her black eyes slowly scanned the room again, and finally, she saw him. Amid the swirling colors of partygoers spinning effortlessly around the room, she saw his elegant form. He leaned carelessly beside the terrace doors, cigar spilling curling tendrils of smoke around his motionless body. He'd removed his jacket, she saw, and the crisp white shirt hung open at his neck. His cravat hung loosely around his neck, but the onyx vest hugged his muscular chest enticingly.

_So unlike him_, she thought. Her Gomez was usually impeccably dressed for company. She moved toward him, and noticed something else. His posture was careless, his normal casual swagger, but as she drew closer to him, her gaze fell upon his face. His usually debonair expression was pained as the muscles in his face fought to keep the suave expression in place. It was the eyes, she noted. The fire in them was nearly palpable. The slight frown in the corner of his lips. The tension in his jaw. The throbbing vein in his throat. The crazed, erratic glint in his black eyes, reflecting the shifting candlelight gave his beautiful face a decidedly demonic appearance.

Morticia repressed a shiver at the sight of him.

_Sheets of night, Hiding us  
Gusts of wind, Riding us  
_

He straightened up as she approached, his furious expression smoothing under the weight of his will. She reached out her hand to him, feeling his scorching skin bite into her own.

"I've been looking for you, darling," she said, coolly.

Gomez's eyes darkened dangerously. "Yes," he replied enigmatically. He brought her hand to his mouth, planting a deep kiss into the space between her knuckles. She thought she saw his eyes flick suspiciously to the side, but a moment later he was entwining his free hand around her waist.

"Care for a midnight stroll through the graveyard, Cara?" he whispered, his voice husky. Before she could respond, he was leading her through the terrace doors and out into the cool, dark night.

The moon was full and high in the sky, its glow casting ghastly shadows across the graveyard grounds. The night was cool with a soft sort of dampness that left a chill in her bones. Morticia shivered with desire. The feel of Gomez's hot hand on her hand, his hot hand wrapped around her waist, made the muscles in her stomach tighten. His tight posture had yet to release and, though half of his face was obscured in shadow, Morticia noticed the tightness in his jaw with increasing alarm.

"Gomez, darling," she crooned, "Is something the matter?" She paused in their walk and brought a cool hand to his fevered cheek, her long, red nails scratching delicately into his skin. Gomez's eyes closed at the contact, a small sigh purring in his chest.

They stood in silence for a long moment. But then, Gomez's eyes flashed open and panic and love _and lust and anger and fear and rage and_ _**raw unbridled animal**__**need!**_burned in his eyes. A tiny gasp escaped Morticia's control as he grabbed her wrists with fearsome quickness, clutching them tightly to his chest.

"I hate it, Morticia!" he growled. Morticia held her breath, trying to rein the fear out of her eyes. Gomez's grip on her wrists tightened, and he pulled her closer, his lips brushing against her cheek, jaw, ear. "I _hate_ the way they look at you," he growled against her skin. Morticia quivered at the sheer, unveiled malice in his tone. He sounded murderous.

_I'm blown away, Into his hands  
I'm weak and I can barely stand  
_

"How dare they look at you!" he murmured. "…lay their eyes on you," he whispered, drawing soft kisses down her throat. Morticia nearly purred, her heart hammering in her chest. She'd never seen Gomez so deranged. "Not when you are _mine!"_ he growled and began to kiss her throat in earnest, biting and sucking until Morticia thought she'd cry out in pain and pleasure.

His hands released her wrists only to tangle in her hair, locking her throat to his mouth. Her body writhed beneath his touch, needing more, needing to escape. She was on fire, but still he did not release her. She pressed on his chest, but still he tortured her with his mouth. She cried out when his teeth sliced into her flesh, a breathy moan that sailed over the moonlit graveyard like a raven. She whimpered as he continued to suck and she pressed against him HARD, but his solid body didn't budge. He merely moved his hand to grip her behind, pressing her body up against his own, trapping her against his smoldering flesh.

She was melting, falling, burning, shaking uncontrollably, and when Gomez moaned into her skin, white stars erupted before her eyes and her knees gave way.

She fell maybe an inch before Gomez's strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her back up to him. As her eyes slowly refocused, she saw the fire still raging in his eyes, her blood still dripping from his swollen lips.

"Gomez," she breathed, the sight of him chilling her blood and setting her heart aflame.

_In the web of dizzy leaves  
Virgins all elude the trees_

"Come," he commanded. "Come with me, Cara Mia," he purred. His fiery eyes burned dangerously and his bloody lips curled up into a sinister smirk. In the pale moonlight, he looked like the Devil himself. But even so, even if taking his hand meant walking straight into Death's outstretched arms, even if the fires of Hell waited her on the other side, she couldn't have refused him. Not with her heart pounding recklessly in her chest. Not with her body begging for more. Not with her skin tingling from his mark on his neck. Not with her fear igniting an insatiable lust within her, his glorious body glowing radiant in the moonlight.

Words died in her throat, but she nodded helplessly, and took his outstretched hand, allowing him to lead her deeper into the willow-shaded graveyard.

_Touch me now, Touch me  
The black acres are claiming me  
They're claiming me  
_

He led her to a small grove of willow trees, their soft, flowing tresses enveloping a small enclosure in near perfect darkness. She shivered as the soft bows caressed her face, her forehead, across her closed eyes, her cheeks, against her sensitive throat… Gomez pulled her through the fragrant curtain and suddenly, as she stepped into the complete blackness, he released her hand.

The blackness was absolute and Morticia had never been so frightened of the darkness in her entire life. She resisted the urge to call out to him, knowing that her voice would tremble with her fear. She stepped tentatively into the black, scanning the darkness for the glow of Gomez's eyes. She was sure those fiery depths would shine even in darkness.

A cool night breeze brushed through the willow boughs and pushed the Morticia's long black hair off the back of her neck, sending a chill down her spine. Her heart raced. _Gomez?_ she thought, too afraid to speak it aloud.

She begged her eyes to adjust, to find some amount of contrast in the seamless dark, her panic beginning to shake her shoulders and hitch her breathing. Her husband had been in a rage, where could he be now?

"Go-" she began, finally breaking under the strain of the silence.

"Shhh," he whispered in her ear, cutting her off. The sound had a particularly demonic edge to it.

She flinched, not expecting to hear his voice quite so close. She forced herself to remain perfectly still, knowing all the while that he stood mere inches behind her.

A hand brushed her cheek. She gasped subtly. And then sighed as it drew a soft caress down her jaw, behind her ear, across the nape of her neck, pushing the remaining strands of hair aside and trailing a long line of gooseflesh down the skin of her exposed back. When his fingers came to rest on the ties of her corset, her eyes rolled into her head in anticipation, her body shaking subtly with desire and chill.

His fingers moved with years of practice, untying one lace at a time. The feel of the strings pulling through the eyes sent a shudder through her and with each loosening, she felt as though her skin were being slowly peeled off. The pressure on her lungs decreased, but rather than feel relieved, her breathing sped, the restrictive material slipping further and further from her, the cool night air teasing her soft skin. His pace was agonizing, the desire and fear and cold and hot and the shuddering pull of the laces were driving Morticia insane.

_He holds me up, Like a babe  
Pressing close; I can't behave_

Needing to feel him, needing to speed his torturous pace, Morticia took a small step backwards, hoping to rub against his firm chest. But the hands on her back stopped, holding her in place.

"Uh huh," he chided softly, merely a whisper of a breath, and Morticia felt another ripple of fear curl in her belly. Her hands bunched into frustrated claws, her body bucking slightly in her crushing need.

"Be patient, cara mia," he commanded, his voice softly scolding. And with a strong pull, he released the final lace. Pressing softly, he pushed the loosened corset and the entirety of Morticia's silky black gown down the length of her body, brushing ever so slightly against her skin. Morticia practically purred as his hands grazed her ribs, her hips, her thighs, her knees…

But he didn't stop there.

Leaving her dress behind, his hands moved slowly, softly, barely grazing her skin, back up her legs, pausing to tickle the backs of her knees, skimming over the soft flesh of her thighs and finally coming to rest at her hips.

Feeling the rough lace of her panties, Gomez growled. "My minx," he purred. Even in the dark, he recognized these panties. Black lace that dipped ever so low in the front and curled around the sides to reveal only a thin lace strip down the back. His body still held inches away from her, Gomez dipped his face into the her shoulder as his hands rubbed over the rough fabric, drawing circles over her sensitive flesh, moving tantalizingly close to her core before withdrawing, teasingly away.

"Gomez," Morticia moaned, her voice almost begging. Her body shook with cold, with need, and with mounting lust. She needed to feel him. Needed his warmth.

He seemed to take pity on her and pressed himself against her naked back. She gasped aloud at the feel of his naked chest against her back. _So warm!_ she thought, pressing seductively into him. She could feel the bulge of his arousal through his trousers, and she pressed hard into it, wanting to give him a taste of her torturous ecstasy.

He groaned, but her movement only seemed to inflame his ardor. His hands grew rough on her hips, pressing against the fabric with abandon, his free hand squeezing and gripping her behind with a fierce grip.

_I need to have this little death  
I'm up against his downy chest  
_

Morticia could stand still no longer. With a moan, her hands wrapped around his head on her shoulder, curling her fingers into his hair, and gripping his neck as if for dear life. His hand drifted upward, wrapping around her pert breast. Morticia gasped loudly, the hot touch of his hand scalding into her frozen flesh.

She bucked her hips into him again, this time earning a sharp moan from Gomez. But then, he clamped his mouth over the pulse in her neck, sucking again with abandon. His grip tightened on her breast, massaging and pressing, and tickling her nipple. She writhed in his grip, his ministrations making her body quake. But then, her head tipped back and she felt her body succumbing to his will as his hand slipped beneath her lacey covering and his hot fingers plunged into her soaking depths.

He moved once, twice, plunging deeply into her, his palm rubbing against her sensitive nub, and then she cried out, her fingernails cutting deeply into Gomez' neck, her body bucking wildly against his unbreakable grip. He moaned into neck as her body melted around his fingers and her heart raced beneath his hand.

Her breathing raced in great gasps, slowing down only gradually as Gomez released her from his iron grip and removed his warm mouth from her neck with a slow, tender kiss.

"Gomez," she purred, resting her weight against her husband's muscular chest.

"_Mine_," he growled huskily in her ear, his hands rubbing the along her upward stretched arms, tracing up to her elbows and down her forearms to where her hands still gripped his neck. His hands formed tight manacles around her wrists, and she shuddered beneath his possessive ardor.

"Yours," she purred back, agreeing.

_In the web of dizzy leaves  
Virgins all elude the trees  
_

With a frightening lurch, Gomez ripped her hands from his neck and spun her around in the same movement, so that her hands, still gripped in his iron grasp, were pulled over her head and her face was mere inches from his own.

The darkness was still as complete as ever, but Morticia's eyes had begun to adjust. So now, instead of seamless curtain of black, Morticia saw the faint outline of her husband's glorious face and the subtle gleam of his Hellfire eyes.

She gasped as her breasts brushed against his bare chest and then moaned aloud as she quickly pressed herself against him, needing to feel the scorch of his skin against her aroused flesh. But Gomez stopped her again.

He moved her arms, dragging her hands down from over her head and resting them on his chest. Morticia could feel the heavy beating of his heart, the rough pulsing of his labored breathing, the smooth flesh of his sculpted chest, moist with a delicate sheen of sweat. She longed to explore the hardened panes of his chest, to tangle her fingers in the short, soft hairs, but his hands were pushing her onward.

Down his chest, across his heaving ribs, down his muscled stomach, before coming to rest at his belt. Morticia's heart raced with anticipation, but, when Gomez's hands released her, she couldn't help but tease him a little, dipping her long fingernails shallowly beneath the belt of his trousers. Gomez tensed, his breath releasing in a long hiss, before Morticia gave him what he desired and removed his trousers and undergarments.

Her hands moved of their own accord and she was stroking him, grasping him, cupping him, grinding her body up against his swollen manhood until he was quivering beside her, gripping her shoulders to keep from falling over.

"Mine," she whispered, enjoying her power over him.

_The chill is flush with burning flesh  
It's so refined, This little death  
_

And suddenly, something in him snapped. Before she could think of pushing him over the edge, or falling on her knees before him and tasting him as she so longed to do, Gomez gripped her hips roughly and pushed her away from him, breaking her hold on him.

For one wild second, Morticia felt like she was falling and she braced for an impact with the cold, solid ground. But instead she felt strong, hot arms surround her, catching her, and laying her gently on her back.

She shivered. The ground was indeed quite cold on her back and the short blades of grass tickled and cut into her skin in a strangely pleasurable combination of sensations. For a moment she felt nothing but the cold on her back and the warm hand under head. But then, rather abruptly, he was there.

His hot legs forced her thighs apart and she willingly complied. He hovered over her, only his vaguest outline apparent in the darkness, but Morticia could feel the heat and lust and rage and desire radiating off of him in waves. Her entire body tingled in anticipation. Her breathing sped as the moment drew on and suddenly she could stand no more.

"Gomez!" she cried, begging.

"Yes, cara?" he breathed. His warm breath tickled her throat. She could hear the smile in his voice. He could feel her need, her mounting desire, her overwhelmingly dire lust.

She briefly considered holding her tongue. She did enjoy being the one in control. But her body screamed for more! Her heart fluttered and she arched her hips up toward him invitingly as she moaned beneath the crushing weight of this need, fear, lust, desire, anguish he'd created in her.

He chuckled and pulled back slightly.

"Gomez!" she cried again, her voice shaking. And suddenly, she couldn't hold it back anymore. "Gomez, Take me! Touch me! _Take what's your_s_!_" Her cries rumbled out in a breathy moan, and before she could finish, he plunged into her.

Her body bucked in pure pleasure as he pounded into her HARD. His weight pressed on her chest, just barely, as his strong arms held him aloft. His hot breath tickled her throat and she moaned as shock waves of pleasure crackled through her like lightening. His tempo was reckless, his pressure beating her, pounding her, pressing her over and over and over and _in just that spot_ and she was gasping now, her toes curling in overwhelming ecstasy, her fingernails digging bloody welts into his shoulders.

Her body tightened around him and he knew he was pushing her to the edge. His own pleasure was mounting at an unholy pace and just before he let himself tumble off with her, he whispered into her skin, "Mine."

And then her vision erupted into a blinding splash of white and Morticia was falling, screaming, flailing, and gasping for breath as she fell into that blissful oblivion with him.

_Touch me now, Touch me  
The black acres are claiming me  
_

When he finally left her and rolled to lay beside her beneath the dark willow bough canopy, Morticia curled into him, her head on his chest and his strong, beautiful arms wrapping her against him.

He sighed a low, slow, contented sigh.

Morticia smiled to herself. She couldn't see his eyes or his face, but she knew the demonic rage had left him. She sighed, contented. Her Gomez was back. But she couldn't help the stirring wave of desire that pierced her as she remembered his murderous glare, his rough hands, his possessive marking of her body.

"I love you, Cara Mia," Gomez murmured, leaning to place a tender kiss in her hair.

She twisted in his arms so she could kiss him properly. As their lips met, Morticia felt that age-old tug in her stomach, and, though she knew she was playing with fire, she grazed her teeth over his bottom lip and pulled, drawing out the kiss and eliciting a very erotic moan from her husband.

"I love you, Mon Cher," she crooned.

Gomez smiled into the dark, but as he laid his head back against the cool grass, he felt a sharp puncture on his chest, right above his heart.

"Ow!" he cried, jumping. He felt Morticia's lips on his chest, her tongue licking the blood that now oozed from a small circular mark above his heart, cuts from Morticia's teeth.

"Ow," he repeated more softly, "What was that for, Tish?" he asked, laying his head back down on the grass.

She curled up into his arms, snuggling her face into the crook of his neck so she could plant a kiss along his jaw.

"Just a little something to remind you who _you_ belong to, _mon cher_," she replied seductively.

Gomez chuckled, and, wrapping her tighter in his arms, kissed her forehead tenderly. "Ah, my love," he whispered, you know I belong only to you."

_They're claiming me._


End file.
